


The Cure is Toe Beans

by Fek



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blood and Gore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Service Dogs, you know for ptsd
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 02:43:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7667218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fek/pseuds/Fek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Kakashi has three not-quite-friends who dump a talking dog on him. Coincidentally, Pakkun ends up helping him. He figures they planned this.</p>
<p>Or, Guy, Kurenai, and Asuma are worried enough about Kakashi when he leaves ANBU that they employ a dog to calm him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cure is Toe Beans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [livvy_luu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvy_luu/gifts).



> Miss Olivia was having a bad day, so I whipped up a little something. I tried writing in a different tense for about half a page, then decided fuck it.

He wasn’t relaxed; long-term exposure to cortisol left him too damaged to truly relax. He was always on edge. And of course, he wasn’t at peace. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see blood and silent, screaming faces. Being through a war, losing everyone most precious to you, and being less than human for a decade will do that to you, he figured. He stared passively into the distance.

But he also wasn’t dreading being alive. He wasn’t  _ entirely _ consumed by the desperate need to dedicate his life to something-- anything-- for the first time in years. He didn’t want to fruitlessly throw his life away for the good of the village quite as much as he did before. The weight in his chest had lessened.

Still, every time a figure in his peripheral shifted too quickly, his hands twitched in the beginning of a Jutsu. He was still more irritable than he had been even in childhood, and he found himself spending his recently freed time hiding in his apartment.

Yes, he decided, it was hard to define the strange, weightless emptiness in his core.

In a single day, it became obvious that there was nothing to do outside of ANBU. Halfway into the first week, Kakashi was bored out of his mind. He was not to be assigned missions for two weeks-- two whole weeks-- to be allowed to adjust to a life outside of special ops. Thus far, he had finished two books on politics, three on various clan histories, one on edible plants, and four erotic novels. He vaguely wondered if he would finish the entire series of the latter before the two weeks were up. He flipped the page of his new favourite,  _ Icha Icha _ , as the wind ruffled his hair and made the leaves surrounding him whisper.

Or, maybe it wasn’t the leaves whispering.

Below him, Asuma and Kurenai quietly bickered as they trailed behind Guy. Guy, who looked beyond pleased with himself as though he had developed the cure for aging. Kakashi internally groaned. It didn’t matter that he had nothing better to do, he still wasn’t ready (would he ever be ready?) to entertain three not-quite-acquaintances-not-quite-friends. Unfortunately, Guy had a sixth sense for not only knowing when Kakashi was upset but also where he was and it took him only the time to look up to spot the jounin sitting on a tree branch. The three waved him down, presenting a cardboard box.

Curiousity piqued, he landed in front of them. “Maa, what is it?” His voice came off steady, bored, and slightly condescending. Oddly enough, two of those words accurately described him in the moment.

“Well, we know how you just got discharged from ANBU…” Asuma started slowly.

Kakashi raised his visible brow, fists curled in his pockets. “Do you, now?”

Kurenai jabbed Asuma in the rib with her elbow. Guy continued, looking as if he was ready to burst. “My most youthful friend, we have banded together our wits and determination to acquire for you…” He moved to the side, allowing Kurenai to hand him the large, rather light box. “A gift!”

Kakashi succumbed. He opened the box to at least look.

“Guy….”

“Yes!”

“This is empty.” The awkward silence became tangible.

“Well, he wouldn’t let us put him in the box.” 

“Him?”

 

* * *

 

Kakashi stares at the small pug (at least he thinks it’s a pug) that waddles to greet them as they enter Kurenai’s apartment. It was barely out of puppyhood, drooling slightly as it blinks up at four adults. He really doesn’t know how he should react to this. 

“I found him when I was on a mission last week, and I couldn’t just leave him there. His ankle was injured.” Kurenai explains, her eyes shifting from anxiety to affection as the mutt nuzzles her leg. She bends down to pick it up. “Anyway, I can’t keep him. So we thought it would do you some good to have a companion.” She hands gives it to Kakashi, slobber and all.

Kakashi simply stares at it in silence. It’s cute if you look at it objectively, he agrees. But what use would he have for a dog? When has he ever once indicated he wanted a pet? He looks back up at three expectant pairs of eyes. 

“What do I do with it?”

The ball of fur in his hands squirms. “Watch who you’re talking about, boy.” it growls. Kakashi jumps and nearly dropping it in the shock.

“It talks?” He looks at Kurenai, flabbergasted.

“Eyes down here, boy. Firstly, I’m not an it, I’m a _him_. Secondly, you’re looking at a dog from a summoning bloodline. Not only can I drag your sorry butt across a field, I can also make a clone outmanoeuvre you in a discussion about politics at the same time. Thirdly, you don’t _do anything_ _with me_ that you wouldn’t do with people. Case closed.” It-- _he--_ growls.

Kakashi blinks once for recognition, twice for computation, thrice for understanding. “I’m sorry?”

“That’s better.” He shifts to hold the dog more comfortably.

“So we were all thinking you should take him.” Asuma finalises.

Both Kakashi and the dog twist to glare at him. “What.” They both ask, both threaten.

“It would be good for both of you. Trust us. Look, you’re already in sync.” He smiles, pushing Kakashi, and consequently the dog, out of the apartment as Kurenai holds the door. As it closes, he sees three cunning smiles that have planned far too much.

“We’re stuck together.”

“It would seem so.”

“Do you have food at your house?”

“Depends if you like rice.”

“Fine by me. The name’s Pakkun, by the way.”

“Kakashi. Nice to meet you."

 

* * *

 

“I see you have quite the selection of books.” Pakkun smirks (can dogs smirk?) as he stares at Kakashi’s shelf; split half and half between porn and functional material. The man flushes slightly as he stir fries dinner for two. Pakkun requested that they eat together, so Kakashi quickly threw together some seats on the floor, ignoring the dog when he asked why he only owned a table with one chair.

At some point, Guy had broken in and left all the supplies they would need. (He knew it was Guy, because of the enthusiastic note that had been signed “anonymous.” Guy was very good at trying too hard, they could both agree on that.) As per request, he tops crunchy dog pellets with stir fry as he does his own rice and sits with his companion.

Pakkun looks at him.

He looks at Pakkun.

It’s all very uncomfortable, he decides.

“Why are you really here?” He finally asks, refusing to believe the three would dump an animal on him because it was convenient. They aren’t as dumb as they look, especially Guy. They are all bright, even by shinobi standards, and if a small brown dog is going to make a home in his bed, he has a right to know why.

Pakkun looks at him with a lazy gaze, finishing lapping up water to make full eye contact. “Well if you want the truth,” he begins, “I am on a mission from those ones. The woman saved my life. It’s the least I can do.” Kakashi is reminded of Kurenai’s kind smile, the way her eerie red eyes sparkle when she’s helped someone and he can definitely believe that she would pause a mission to rescue a puppy.

“The thing is, I’m supposed to be keeping a secret.” Kakashi narrows his eye automatically, practised suspicion not bothered to be hidden. “Relax, kid. You’ll figure it out in a day anyways.” Pakkun snorts and goes back to wolfing down his food.

Kakashi clenches his chopsticks.

 

* * *

 

He’s sprinting through a forest, trees arching high above him until their branches turn into the concept and branches and their leaves turn into splotches of indefinite foliage. The canopy, though far away, presses down on him, pushing him into a tunnel. All around him, figures of enemies morph out of bushes and rocks, surrounding him. Separated from his team, he's in danger.

The first one attacks him with a weapon unlike anything he's ever seen before: a segmented staff that wraps around him and presses barbs into his skin. He jumps and carves a line through the attacker’s body with his sword. One behind him gets their entrails ripped out by the same blade, one in front gets three broken bones before their neck is snapped at an impossible angle. All around him, foes fall to his precise attacks. They keep coming, endless, and Kakashi’s acrobatic agility is beginning to fail him as he activates his Sharingan behind a bone white mask. It glows as red as the blood painting his clothes, as red as the mouth painted on his false face, as red as the tattoo painting his shoulder.

His Chidori chirps to life, illuminating the setting as he cuts through his attackers. It's quicker and more efficient than any saw he's ever seen. He plunges his fist into the chest of one, only to have her garish mask fall off. 

“You must like killing, Kakashi.” She whispers. Kakashi can't look away from the purple rectangles on her cheeks. His eyes widen in horror.

She slides off his bloody wrist, and he feels her still beating heart slip out of his fist before she collapses. The enemies are dead, but the demons have risen.

All around him, he can hear failing life from liquid-filled lungs, ragged breathing, and the squelch of human meat being moved once it's torn apart. He can smell blood and fear so thickly in the air that it manifests in his throat, choking him. The blood on his hands is soaking through his gloves, warm and wet, and if pools of it weren't clotting at his feet, he could have imagined rain.

One of the corpses shifts, grabbing at his ankles, and he jerks back, only to have his mask fall off and he realises: these are civilians. He recognises everyone; shopkeepers, waitresses, doctors, and children.

_ Minato. Kushina. Obito. _

His body goes cold and his heart pounds in his chest. Bile rises to his mouth but he can't tear his eyes away from the mangled bodies at his feet. The ones  _ he's  _ just butchered.

“Kakashi..” Rin calls.

“Kakashi….” They echo. “Kakashi… Kakashi… Kakashi… Kakashi--”

 

“--Kakashi!” He jolts awake, head spinning. Immediately he's at his bathroom sink, cold water gushing over his hands because no matter how much he washes he can still feel the warmth of Rin’s beating heart in his palm and children's blood between his fingers.

“Kakashi!” He ignores the voice because it sounds too much like the voices in his dream. Instead, he focuses on stains under his fingernails and on the delicate bones of his wrist.

“Kakashi!”  _ CHOMP. _

“!” His mind makes a specific noise of shock and pain; he shakes the pug attached to his ankle. It lets go and sits down. He glares at it as he fixes the tap.

“You were panicking.” Pakkun offers. “As for your hands: I am the finest tracker you will ever meet, and I can assure you there is nothing on your hands.”

Kakashi takes in a breath and regains his composure. “Leave me alone.” He snarls. Pakkun rolls his eyes.

“Come back to bed.”

“No.”

“Come on.”

“No.”

“Just go to sleep.”

“I'm not sleeping tonight.” He spits. He sinks to the floor.

Pakkun looks at him softly before walking away, toenails clicking. When he returns, he’s holding a blanket. With great effort, he hoists it over Kakashi’s curled form. “Touch my paw.” He sits in Kakashi’s lap and holds up one foot.

“What.”

“Do it.”

Reluctantly, Kakashi rubs his fingers against tiny toe beans. They squish as he applies pressure. His hands stop trembling as he focuses on using his muscles and ligaments. Pakkun leans up to lick a stripe across Kakashi’s masked face, smiling at him with the most insipid looking smile imaginable, his tongue hanging out.

“Pet me.” He orders, sinking into Kakashi further and turning into a puddle of mush. Kakashi runs his fingers through short, silky fur, feeling velvety skin wrinkles and rolls of both muscle and pudge. He strokes floppy ears that spread over his leg, he focuses on how unbelievably soft the talking dog is.

At least an hour passes before Pakkun orders Kakashi to take him back to bed. He obliges reluctantly. Once settled, Pakkun squirms until he’s lying directly on top Kakashi’s chest. Kakashi is still carding his hands through short fur when Pakkun tells him to go to sleep (and apparently his mask tastes gross, but that's obviously Pakkun’s fault for licking him in the first place.)

“I don't want to.” He confesses, nonchalant but just barely above a whisper.

“I'll wake you up again.” Pakkun promises, wiggling his tiny tail. With Pakkun's body on top of him, he realises, the strange, weightless feeling in his chest just feels warm.

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone notices any grammatical, punctuation, or tense errors, please let me know. I also would like input on how the characters are written. Are they in character? When I was writing it I didn't feel the click, but this is based off a period where Kakashi wasn't quite what we know him as, but also wasn't quite what he /was./ You feel?


End file.
